


Butterflies

by carpelucem



Series: 2013 Ficlet Advent [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swimming, M/M, Thundershield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpelucem/pseuds/carpelucem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had never been to London, had never really traveled past the northeast of the US until he started swimming competitively in college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies

Steve had never been to London, had never really traveled past the northeast of the US until he started swimming competitively in college. He would have never imagined traveling all the way to England because of it, he’d had to rush his passport through so it would be ready in time to make the International Collegiate Games, but stepping off the plane, Steve thought all the hassle was totally worth it. Everyone spoke with an accent straight out of Downton Abbey (his grandma’s favorite show), the money was bright and colorful (and heavy, no dollar bills, just coins), and even the air felt charged with something exciting.

It was going to be an awesome two weeks.

Until ten minutes later, when Steve picked up his new rolling suitcase marked with the ICG emblem, cleared customs, and was standing, dumbfounded, in front of the ground transportation boards, rifling through his bag for instructions on how to actually get INTO London from Heathrow.

Moving off to the side, Steve dug through his backpack, sure he’d placed all of his travel info in the manila folder his grandma insisted he bring along. Thing was, between the tangle of ipod cords and laptop chargers, Men’s Health and the hardcover book he’d stupidly shoved in at the last minute, Steve couldn’t seem to FIND the sheet with directions for the subway (or Underground, as the signs said).

He was trying not to have a panic attack, trying to remember the last time he’d seen the folder (that also had the address of his lodging and his room assignment) when he registered a large shadow in front of him.

“Do you need some help?”

Steve looked up (which was rare, hardly anyone at school was taller than him) and a huge blonde guy had dropped his duffle and was looking expectantly at Steve.

A shiver of panic worked through Steve, he knew people were trained to take advantage of naive college students at airports, he’d seen Hostel and Taken.

“Nope, good, thanks,” he stuttered out as evenly as he could manage, and tried to force a smile onto his face.

“You aren’t lost?” the guy asked, blue eyes crinkling in a way Steve would probably find friendly under other circumstances, and he shook his head.

“Fine, just looking for something.”

“Okay. Just…nevermind.” The guy turned away and Steve noticed the ICG backpack slung over his arm.

“Wait!”

He turned and looked back at Steve. “Changed your mind?”

Steve pointed to his bag. “You’re here for the Games?”

“Yeah, I saw your suitcase and thought we might be going to the same place. I’ve been to London a lot and you looked like you needed help.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief and cursed himself for being an idiot. “Steve Rogers, I go to Syracuse. In New York?”

“Thor Odinson. I go to university in Uppsala.” He shook Steve’s outstretched hand. “That’s in Sweden.”

“Oh, right, of course! Cool. That’s cool.” Steve knew he was babbling, he did that when he was nervous. The guy just stood there, calm and cool - far cooler than Steve felt. He was twenty-one for God’s sake. “Yeah, I was just trying to find the stuff I printed out that had directions to the dorms.”

The guy nodded towards the trains. “I can get us to the residences, but maybe you can find the rest of your stuff on the tube.”

“Yeah, that’s smart, okay.” Steve shoved his mess back into his backpack and followed Thor to the ticket window for the tube. Once they were on the train, they found seats (apparently it wasn’t crowded this far out, because he never sat on the subway at home), Steve found the folder in the back pocket of his pack.

“See? It’s fine.” Thor didn’t have much of an accent, he sounded more English than anything. “What’s your event?”

“Swimming,” Steve said, “Butterfly and freestyle. You?”

“Well, we’re in the same dorm, then, I’m swimming too.”

Damn.. The guy, Thor, was massive, with arms that dwarfed Steve’s. All of Steve’s hard-won confidence in his athletic ability rushed out, leaving him behind like the brick houses lining the train tracks.

“Is everything ok?” Steve snapped back and Thor was looking at him across the narrow aisle, pale eyebrows furrowed in the center.

“No, I’m fine, thanks though.” Steve bit off a tense smile and watched Thor relax back into the plastic bench. His fingers yearned for the roll of charcoal pencils shoved in his suitcase, because he’d have loved to sketch him, the planes and curves of Thor’s face intriguing and very, very attractive. Steve realized he was staring rudely and coughed, tried to make small talk.

“So, um, how do you know London so well?” 

Thor smiled, linked his fingers behind his head, elbows spanning a couple seats. “My father’s company has a branch here, and my brother goes to Oxford. I spend a lot of weekends in the city.”

The fact that someone could just spend a few days in another country on a whim blew Steve’s mind a little. Sure, he could head over the border to Canada, but it was pretty close to the States in terms of culture. Steve couldn’t imagine getting that kind of education, the art and the people and the lifestyle so different from home.

“Are you from Syracuse?” Thor asked, and Steve felt a flush of pleasure that he’d remembered the snippet of information about him.

“Nope, Brooklyn. I spent my whole life there until college.”

“I enjoy New York City, you are lucky to live there.”

“Come back sometime, I’ll show you around.” Steve was completely sincere in his offer, despite someone of Thor’s obvious wealth probably not wanting to stay with Steve in his grandmother’s walk-up in Brooklyn. He’d probably stayed at the five star hotels facing Central Park, he looked the type.

“Really? Steve Rogers, I may have to do just that.” Thor smiled widely, the breadth of it blinding, and Steve found himself returning the same dopey grin.

The forty-five minutes on the train passed quickly, Thor telling Steve about his family in Sweden and his school.

“I should very much like to experience your university life, Steve, it looks most enjoyable.”

Once they got off the train, Steve spent the walk to the dorms explaining to Thor that university in America wasn’t always like the movies, they did study sometimes between the parties and football games.

“And yet, you seem to have a far better time than we do. Your athletics are mostly unsurpassed,” Thor caught himself on the last statement. “Swimming notwithstanding, of course.” 

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” They stopped in front of a building that looked surprisingly like a residence hall back home, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of disappointment. (He wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but a part of him had been expecting Hogwarts.)

Thor clapped him lightly on the shoulder, and suddenly Steve wasn’t upset about not staying in a castle. “We have arrived, my friend. I must take my leave, but registration is in the hall there, and then I believe there is an introductory event this evening.” 

Steve just nodded along, and followed Thor into the lobby of the dorm. He thrust out his hand as Thor shouldered his bag. He felt slightly awkward, unsure if Thor was simply being welcoming to a stranger or if he was truly that friendly.

“Thanks for the help getting here. It’s was nice to meet you. Hope I see you around?” The last part squeaked out, higher and more hopeful than Steve would have liked, so very uncool, he cringed on the inside.

Thor simply nodded once, clasped Steve’s hand in his own. “I fully intend on it, Steve Rogers. I shall see you soon.”

Steve watched Thor join a cluster of tall blondes across the hall, greeting one another in a language guttural and foreign. Standing in line for his information packet, Steve tried not to stare in their general direction, but his eyes drifted once. Thor was looking at him, and he smiled when he caught Steve’s eye.

The next two weeks were going to be very interesting.


End file.
